


That’s a Meter-o-fact

by Anchan (Anchan_thevolleyballplayer)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cute, Established Relationship, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchan_thevolleyballplayer/pseuds/Anchan
Summary: “Hyung, let’s play a game,” Jisung whispers, beaming brighter than the sun. “Guess what I’m thinking about.”Minho hums, letting his eyes linger on Jisung’s before he flutters them close. “Me.”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75
Collections: SKZ Secret Santa 2020





	That’s a Meter-o-fact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heaveninbusan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heaveninbusan/gifts).



> Hello to my giftee, I believe you already received a Secret Santa gift but I was assigned to be your pinch-hitter and have already finished this so here you go? you get two gifts this year! I wonder what went wrong... I hope you have/had great holidays and that your 2021 will be a much better year than the previous one!
> 
> To address the soulmate bond, Minho and Jisung are bound by their emotions which reflect in the other's eyes and on their own nails. When one soulmate is feeling strong emotions, his eyes and his partner's nails turn a certain colour, and only the soulmates can see these colours. 
> 
> (Someone could call it an _emotion-meter_ )

Jisung’s laughter chimes like bells, carrying through the air all the way towards Minho. 

It’s about the kids playing in the distance, maybe about the dog Jisung has caught the attention of, or a bird somewhere in the sky. Might have to do with just the fact that they’re together. What matters is that Jisung is happy. 

The summer afternoon is perfect, gleaming with colours, and Minho is happy, too. 

Their steps rust in the lime grass as Jisung runs towards him to tug him along, playfully spinning them until everything Minho sees is blurred - except for Jisung, but he’s always been able to see him clearly. 

“Loosen up,” Jisung giggles into the space between them, breathless. Minho would love to, but unlike someone, he’s actually making sure they don’t end up stumbling to the ground. 

“I don’t want us to fall,” he replies, to which Jisung smiles even wider, making his eyes crinkle and hide their golden glint. When they reopen, Minho swears they’re tinted pink. 

There are many colours reflecting in Jisung’s eyes whenever he looks at them, and he’s learned all of them way before they met, as the same shade decorates his nails. Within the many shades and hues, though, Minho’s come to love the golden, yellow-ish tint the most. 

The one that indicates _happiness,_ something that’s been missing from Jisung’s life - if the black and blue colours staining his nails through the better part of his puberty are anything to go by. 

It hurts to think about what it was like for Jisung. Seeing the person in front of him, the ever-so-bright sweetheart, he wants to throw everything to the wind and heal all his scars. 

He used to paint his nails to cover for the sadness and hurt reflecting on them; now that Jisung is present in his life, he makes sure to repaint the colour in his eyes with anything he can give him, until he’s shining in pure gold. 

Jisung spins them around until he sways dangerously close to falling to the side and Minho secures his hold around his waist, pushing them flush against each other. The pinks and yellows of Jisung’s irises are even brighter. 

Jisung’s arms find his shoulders, reaching up his neck until he’s cupping Minho’s cheeks. Minho leans in to press a fleeting kiss to his lips. 

“Can we sit down now?” he pleads, still dizzy from the previous joking around. Jisung nods against his lips, stumbling them backwards a few steps before Minho lets go. 

Instead of letting his annoyance show - which it does, through the orange sparkle in his eyes - he reaches for Minho’s hand again and leads him back to their picnic spot. 

They sprawl across the blanket, giggling at each other when Jisung cranes his neck enough to catch Minho already staring at him. 

Jisung’s hand squeezes his, fingers still intertwined. 

When Minho glances down, both of their hands are painted with pink, with love and content of having the other by their side. Minho’s heart aches with the same emotions, and he’s never been good with words, but Jisung understands as much. 

He’s so glad for their markings, letting them read each other like books. If anyone were to ask, Minho would insist he can do that well himself, give him a blindfold and he will prove his words. 

But when it comes to himself, he’s glad the words stuck in his throat show on his sleeve. 

There’s no one else but Jisung to see them, anyway. 

“Hyung, let’s play a game,” Jisung whispers, beaming brighter than the sun. “Guess what I’m thinking about.” 

Minho hums, letting his eyes linger on Jisung’s before he flutters them close. “Me.” 

“Ya,” the younger huffs out, feigning annoyance, but it’s soon replaced by a wide grin. “Yeah, of course, I always think about you. But it wouldn’t be a fun game if you were the answer each time, would it?” 

Minho opens his eyes to see the teasing glint behind Jisung’s words - what he gets instead is his boyfriend shuffling closer, cuddling into his side. His hand strokes Minho’s stomach, providing a distraction to his wandering eyes. 

He looks too serious for the situation, lip caught between his lips. Minho checks his hand for a sign of discomfort, but he finds none, greeted by the familiar pink. 

“Don’t know about you,” Minho hums in answer. “It would be pretty nice.”

_This_ is already pretty nice; anything that has Jisung in it. 

“Keep dreaming, and try again!” the younger teases, and his eyes crinkle with fondness. 

“Okay, okay,” he complies, directing his eyes towards the sky. The clouds are fluffy above them, but they don’t block the sun, which makes the early summer pleasantly warm. Jisung’s heat pressed into his side makes it even warmer. “Cheesecake?” 

“I think about other things that just cheesecakes, you know?” the younger mumbles against his chest. “Your favourite dish doesn’t define you, hyung.”

“Look, I’m trying, and I haven’t seen anything other than me and cheesecakes you throw the enamoured eyes at,” he defends himself, placing one of his hands atop Jisung’s. 

Jisung heaves a sigh, shaking his head gently. “Change-up.” 

“Fine, what am _I_ thinking about, then?” 

“Me, of course,” Jisung replies smugly, giving him a taste of his own medicine. However, while Jisung expects himself to be shooed, Minho doesn’t want to deny the statement - he gains nothing from being secretive, and he likes to feel Jisung’s heartbeat rise. 

“Yeah,” he admits and observes as Jisung’s eyes widen. “I’m always thinking about you.” 

Jisung groans, then, although he fails to hide the hammering heart echoing against Minho’s chest. He feels proud of having him react that way. “Don’t be cheesy!” 

“Well, you asked me for the truth,” Minho whines back at him, matter-o-factly. “And I mean it, why would I think about something else when you’re with me?” 

Jisung huffs. _Almost believable orange._

“What, do you want me to think about that one assignment I failed to finish on time, because that’s quite a turn-off, in my opin-” he’s kissed shut, Jisung letting go of his hand to heave himself up. 

“God, shut up,” he breathes out against Minho’s lips, the ones that are now spreading into a satisfied smile. 

He looks breathtaking leaned up above him, golden skin radiating in the sun, dark strands framing his face and falling into his eyes, staring him down with fondness. Minho wants to kiss him again and again. 

But before that comes true, he _really_ wants to do something else. 

Jisung shrieks in surprise when his fingers slide under his striped tank top, ghosting up his sides. Minho chuckles, happy with the immediate reaction. 

His fingers ghost up towards his armpits, and Jisung seems to be catching up to his plan because he squeezes his arms flush against his sides, blocking Minho away from his sensitive parts. Not enough to stop his attempts, but he’s strong enough to keep his ground, so Minho figures he should move his attention elsewhere. 

“Don’t, no, Minho-” Jisung begs, stuttering between sharp intakes of air and laughter. “I swear, _no, Minho,_ please, s-stop!” 

He’s withering above him, barely holding up but too proud to roll off and admit defeat, instead battling with his own balance, his whole body shaking. Adorable. 

“What about it?” Minho inquires, not ending his suffering yet, lightly scratching his ribs. “Have anything to offer for my mercy?” 

“Anything, _anything,_ please l-let me breathe,” Jisung’s hands claw at Minho biceps, squeezing him for dear life. Okay, he figures that’s enough. 

The hand that had been clasping Jisung’s tangles into Jisung’s hair, providing a cushion when he suddenly turns them over without a warning. 

Jisung groans in defeat, but the sound is lost amidst his hysterical laughter and pleads. “Minhooo- kiss me, whatever, just _stop!”_

That Minho decides to stop at this moment has nothing to do with the younger’s plea, and doesn’t prove further how gone for Jisung he is. He is, without doubt, wrapped around Jisung’s finger, but he stops his tickling attack for his own selfish reasons. 

So what if the reasons are longing for Jisung’s lips. 

“Hyung, you’re so mean,” Jisung exhales once he catches his breath, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re hurting my feelings.” 

“I’m hurting your _ego,_ if anything,” Minho shakes his head, exasperated at the younger’s dramatic antics. “Besides, I heard that kisses are therapeutic.” 

Jisung whines, fighting a whipped smile, as if he could pretend he isn’t just as gone for Minho. “How can you be so sure? What if I’m hurt?”

_Doesn’t sound very convincing._

Tired of holding himself up on his arms, Minho lets himself rest on Jisung’s chest. The younger brings his arms up to circle around his waist, lips stretching into a heartshaped smile that only Minho gets to witness. 

“I just know,” he answers, returning a soft smile. Jisung cranes his neck to chase after his lips, so Minho leans in to capture them. Soft, like everything else about Jisung. 

“How?” Jisung presses on. He’s cross-eyed now, trying to focus on Minho’s lips. 

“It’s a matter-of-fact.”

Minho chuckles, diving forward to get another taste of the sweetness, drinking up the pleased groan that slips from Jisung’s mouth. 

The meter never lies. 

The grass is natural green, the sky is tranquil blue, the blanket is checkered with red, and Jisung’s eyes are golden and pink, beaming with love. Just like they should be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading~


End file.
